


Radio Screwby

by blenalela



Series: we make do - Generation Kill Modern AU [1]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern Era, Q-Tip has a radio show, as cute and weird and funny as it sounds, lots and lots of music, lots of swearing, lots of trolling, problem solving hotline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 09:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21336250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blenalela/pseuds/blenalela
Summary: Welcome to Radio Screwby! From 5 till 8:30 p. m. you can indulge in some good rap music, listen to rants about whatever gets Q-Tip's goat, listen to some real life advice and have a darn screwby time!Or a modern GK AU where Q-Tip has become a radio presenter.
Relationships: John Christeson/Evan Stafford
Series: we make do - Generation Kill Modern AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538074
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Radio Screwby

**Radio Screwby**

“Yo guys, thanks for tuning in this time again, y’all in for some _Screwby Times_? I sure fuckin’ hope you are, cuz guess what? I’ve got three hours to pass with ya and what should I tell you? I got a lot to rant about today. But let’s start this with some good old nineties-rap, have fun with _Bonita Applebum_.”

Evan pulled the headphones from his ears and leant back in his chair as he put the mentioned song on. He started slowly shimmying in his seat to the tunes before he proceeded to ruffle through his little bag under the desk and give Snoop Dogg a little scratch behind the ears. Hell no, he hadn’t been joking when he said he got a lot to rant about. Shit, he got a ton of stuff he needed to get off his chest before he would start answering calls in about an hour. And he had prepared a playlist for the day, first time ever, normally he simply played what he felt like, but John had made him make a plan. Dude ranted a lot about how his songs often repeated themselves and either didn’t fit together at all or sounded very alike.

Q-Tip had simply told him to fuck off, but then he admitted that maybe he was right. (John was mostly right all the time.) He’d simply have to squeeze in listener’s requests somewhere, but that’d be no problem. Like, all he had to do was look them up online (‘cause that’s where they could put them) and check where they’d be the least misplaced. And bam! The song was being played.

Lots of the songs being requested were simply bad if you asked him (but nobody really did, yet he still needed to get his opinion about them out into the world), but, as sappy as it sounded, Evan wanted to give his loyal listeners something back so he did as they told him with the song requests.

No one of his friends could ever hear this, they’d never let him live in peace after that.

After giving Snoop Dogg another scratch , Evan put his headphones back on and switched his mic back on. His first song of the day was coming to an end which meant he was about to start one of his little rants. He knew his listeners cared little about him having shit going on in life and those he talked about would call later to get pissed at him. What could he do? His job was to entertain, not to please every fucking human in existence.

“Yo, guys, welcome back. So, yesterday, I was walking down the streets until I found some kiosk. Yeah no shit, that ain’t special, but seeing that thing reminded me of an old friend. Maybe you’ve already heard of him, his name’s Evan Wright? He’s just started his own magazine, you should really buy it if you like boring stuff like classic rock and healthier life and shit. But you know what I really liked him for? Back in the day, he used to write for _Hustler _and I know ya dirty little rats, you’ll jerk of to that anytime you get and if you don’t have some _Playboy_ lying around. Good old Scribe used to write some _Hot Letters_, _Porn Reviews_ and y’all’s fav: fucking _Beaver Hunt_!

Yeah, you don’t even need to deny it, you kinky beasts love yourself some good old _Beaver Hunt_. I mean, shit, I was one of you too some time ago. Now I got my hubby and don’t need that shit no more. But I mean, for you forever-single-lonely-as-fuck dudes it’s still the good old shit, ain’t I right?”

He used a short moment to snicker to himself before continuing his speech.

“Oh well, I shouldn’t have said that thing ‘bout lil’ Johnnyboy. He always says he hates being featured in my program, but I mean, I know he secretly loves it. Just the other day I overheard him talk to some kid what a great boyfriend he has.

Yeah, you heard right, we still ain’t married. But who the fuck needs some fucking paper as to know they love someone? We sure as shit don’t.

Where was I? Ah yes, he bragged about me. Yes, you heard right, my fucking great love just bragged about me. Praised my show and some other stuff I can’t talk about at this hour, he.

“No, all jokes aside, I fucking love this guy. Like, I am some obnoxious asshole , but dude’s staying with me. And he’s a huge ass critic. Today he told me my show sucks ass ‘cuz the songs aren’t ‘diverse’ enough. Made me write a playlist to get some kinda mix together. Lemme know if he was right or if I should get back to my old impro thing.

I’m also told to say y’all some greetings from Snoop Dogg who’s taking a nap between my feet – not the rapper, you dumbfucks, my dog – and now have a fucking good time with the next few songs, including _Hot in Herre_, some good ole _Eminem_ and one special request I ignore on a daily basis but I’m in a good mood today. So fuck you Ray, you little fucker won and got your _Sk8ter Boi_.”

While working, time practically flies by for him. Evan couldn’t remember a single day he got bored on his job. In between him talking he got time to look up requests and comments online, made some Insta-Stories and stuff (advertising was the key to success) and simply enjoying some of his favorite tunes. Next up would be his new segment, _Ask Stafford!_ The name hadn’t been his idea, his boss wanted it since it corresponded with the other support segments like _Ask Taylor!_, _Ask Emerson!_ and _Ask Richie!_. He would’ve chosen a better name, a cooler name, a name that didn’t sound like he was simply making some 08/15 help-hotline.

But that shit wasn’t in his hands. He simply had to roll with it.

“And here we are, our first caller of day! What can I do for ya?”

_“Yes, hello, you fucker! I didn’t request _Avril Lavigne_, I wanted fucking _Billie Eilish_! Can’t you fucking read? I carefully put _bad guy_ for today. You’re a horrible MC. I’m thinking about withdrawing your privilege to call me your dearest pal Ray-Ray. Fuck you!”_

“Maybe if you didn’t choose that shit as a request for _my _show, I’d actually play what ya want.”

_“And you also never play my fucking tape! I gave you like what? Five copies? Come on, at least play one of them!”_

“I ain’t gonna rape my listeners ears with your yodeling, dude. I ain’t a sadist. No one wants to hear your shit.”

_“Fine! Then don’t. But be sure, I won’t let you play our songs when we made it. Like, I’m gonna get a lawyer to prevent you from it.”_

“As if Nate’s gonna do that. By the way, if y’all ever need some legal advice, Nathaniel Fick is the man in whose hands you should lay your faith!”

_“And that’s some unpaid ad! Guy’s the bomb. See ya, Q-Tip, and I trust you to play the right song later on, do it for your dearest pal Ray-Ray.”_

“Yeah, yeah, empty the line for someone who really needs help, ass.”

_“Love ya!”_

Before taking in the next caller, Evan played one of his favorites at the moment, a _Machine Gun Kelly_ number called _Hollywood Whore_. He and John would literally spend hours rapping the song together, trying to check who could remember the lyrics better. Silently mouthing the lyrics to the song he checked his cell phone for whatever might have happened in his private life and saw a notification from Nate.

_Stop advertising me in your show. _

_That makes me look unprofessional. _

_18:18 p. m. _

_Continue with that and _

_you will be the one who _

_needs some legal advice._

_18:19 p. m. _

_I can assure you of this._

_18:19 p. m. _

_Sorry. But ya gotta admit, I get ya_

_some new clients._

_18:21 p. m. _

_No, you don’t._

_18:21 p. m. _

After having played one of the _Flo Rida_ classics, he took the next call. He didn’t recognize the number which meant it wasn’t another troll like Ray had just been. Which was actually surprising, mostly the real callers came in later in the day, at around seven, cuz those people had to work other than his idiot friends who had always the time to listen to his show and comment on it or call (e. g. Ray, Nate, usually Scribe complaining about him mentioning the _Hustler_-story, Rudy asking for some advertising, Brad being Brad, John calling to hear his voice (which didn’t just basically play on loop) or any other dude from his seemingly infinite friend group).

“Hi-yo, what has you brought up here to _Ask Stafford!_?”

The voice on the other side of the line was thin, sounded unsure. _“I didn’t know who else I should ask. I really hope you can help me.”_

As if pressing a switch, Evan snapped into a more serious mood. He might be a trash talker, but he knew when to get serious and this was one of those times. _Ask Stafford!_ was something important to him, it meant helping others out. And shit, people could call him a softie, but he liked helping others sort their shit out.

“Sure thing, just put it out, what’s up?”

_“I want to ask my boyfriend if he wants to marry me. But I want it to be original. Can you help me?”_

It was time for Doctor Love to shine. “Okay, I’m completely down for you to propose. How long do you know each other?”

_“Little over five years.”_

“Cool, cool. I’ve known my bf for about six years now. So, what’s his name?”

_“Jackson.”_

“And what are some things Jackson likes?”

_“He loves surfing and sharks. Also barbecues. And Broadway musicals. But what he loves the most is his motorbike. He loves going on rides with me.”_

“Oho, I doubt he loves his bike most, I’m pretty sure you’re his biggest love, huh? But let me think for a bit, I’m gonna plan you the greatest proposal ever, just trust me, this is gonna be screwby!”

_“Thank you so very much!”_

“So, you’re gonna start it like this: First, you coax him into driving to the sea with you. But instead of simply going surfing together, at the beach you’ll meet with a Broadway singer – I know one who still owes me a favor, so I can arrange that for ya – who’s gonna be standing there in a shark costume preparing a barbecue for you two. And just when your bf thinks this is the greatest shit ever, you’re gonna drop to your knees and pop that question!”

_“That sounds… weird. I don’t really think he’d like that.”_

“Yo, if he really loves you, he’d say yes even if you were gonna propose to him in a dumpster wearing a pickle costume. You don’t have to prepare a super huge thing, just be a bit romantic and that’s it. Don’t spend a shit ton of money on that proposal thing, you’ll spend enough on the real wedding later on.”

_“… I think you’re right. Thank you, Q-Tip!”_

“No problem, and if you still need that singer, that wasn’t a lie, I can really arrange that for you.”

_“Bye!”_

“Bye! And just to prove my point of knowing a real deal Broadway performer, I’m gonna pop a song from _Kinky Boots_, sung by a very good friend! Have a blast, guys!”

_I’m going to sue you._

_18:59 p. m. _

_Aww man! Nate, I know ya,_

_you won’t do that!_

_19:00 p. m. _

_I am suing you. I have the papers_

_lying in front of me._

_19:00 p. m._

_Even if you are, Brad is going to_

_hold you back because Ray has_

_persuaded him to._

_19:00 p. m. _

After that, Nate didn’t respond. He was presumably fuming internally and thinking of a way to get his authority towards him back. Nate hated losing like this. His job was to win verbal battles so that was what he normally did and to lose to him, a simple shit talker who spoke before he thought was a punch in the guts.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t feel great for Evan. Oh no, inside his head were two songs being played simultaneously and he felt like putting them out for everyone to hear.

And as simple as that, he decided to throw his planned songs overboard and decided to first play _We Are The Champions_ and afterwards, an even more excellent choice, _Sweet Victory_ played live by the _Bikini Bottom Marching Band_.

Oh yes, it was a sweet victory indeed. One might even call it a _screwby_ victory.

With lots of other calls, eight o’clock rolled around faster than he expected. This meant he was finally allowed to talk about some more explicit stuff which was probably his favorite time of the day (even if it as only for half an hour because his show time ended at eight-thirty). He loved the entire time he could spend on his job, but that thirty minutes of getting into stuff like he was about to was something holy to him. No more goodie-two-shoes from now on. (Though he thought that his themes changed little from eight on to eight-thirty, but no one corrected whatever he was doing, so he just continued with it. Screwby.).

“Okay, guys, you remember this friend I talked ‘bout last week? Rudy Reyes? Well, well, my homie Fruity Rudy has just expanded his business. Now he ain’t only teach you some awesome yoga skills, but he can get you into some kinky stuff too! No joke, dude’s now doing some poledance classes and lemme tell ya, the guy knows what he’s doing.

Maybe I’ll take some too, so if you’re gonna be there too maybe we’ll run into each other.

And guys, always remember: Fruity Rudy might look like a big cuddly bear, but that guy could snap your spine in half with nothing more than a simple hug.

Well guys, time’s almost up, so have fun with the last song of the day before I gotta say ‘See ya next time here at Screwby Times!’

Stay screwby, my dudes, and ‘til tomorrow!”

With that, he turned on _Can’t hold us _before he packed up all his shit and woke Snoop Dogg (still a Rottweiler, not the rapper) from his nap under the table and five minutes later, he turned the lights off and left the studio, happy to get home to his boyfriend and his amazing cooking, spending the night relaxing on the couch watching some reality-TV-shit before tomorrow would start it all again.

As easy it might seem, his job was exhausting. Listening to people’s problems, coming up with shit to talk about, that was seriously draining. So whenever he came home stepping foot in his house with John in the kitchen doing the finishing touches on their dinner, he was just happy to be home and able to relax with the greatest man the world had to offer and the greatest dog one could find and simply living the greatest life one could ever imagine.

And never ever would he trade this life for anything else (and yes, you are now allowed to call the super cool Evan ‘Q-Tip’ Stafford a big lovey-dovey idiot. Go on, you’re right.).

**Author's Note:**

> *poledance teacher Rudy Reyes belongs to my best friend
> 
> The songs in chronological order:  
Bonita Applebum – A Tribe Called Quest  
Hot in Herre – Nelly  
Not Afraid – Eminem (aka some Eminem Song)  
Sk8ter Boi – Avril Lavigne  
Hollywood Whore – Machine Gun Kelly  
My House – Flo Rida (aka some Flo Rida classic)  
Soul Of A Man – Stark Sands (aka the song from Kinky Boots)  
We Are The Champions – Queen (everybody loves Queen)  
Sweet Victory – Spongebob Squarepants  
Can’t Hold Us – Macklemore & Ryan Lewis feat. Ray Dalton
> 
> (Can we please talk about Stark Sands' angelic singing voice?)


End file.
